The Four Stages of Fear
by Ceres Vesta
Summary: "It is far safer to be feared than loved if you cannot be both." - Niccolò Machiavelli


Author's Notes: Written for Dramione Drabble over at LJ in response to leopion's prompt: "The answer is that one would like to be both the one and the other; but because it is difficult to combine them, it is far safer to be feared than loved if you cannot be both." ~Niccolò Machiavelli"

* * *

**FREEZE _(She stood stock-still)_**

She gave a cry as her hands reached nothing but cold, stone walls.

"I've come for you, Granger."

Hermione turned around and blindly aimed her wand in the dark. "Don't take another step closer!" she yelled. She let out short, ragged breaths, searching for her captor while desperately finding a way out of the blackened dungeon.

Outside Hogwarts crumbling walls was an eerie silence, save for Voldemort's sinister laughter. Flashes of her friends falling one by one seared through her brain, all logic and reason burning away.

"There's no one else out there for you." His voice was of indifference, deep and silky like a beautiful rope about to pull you to a trap. "They're all gone."

She screamed for hope, for herself, before casting curses one after another in all directions. Bolts of light illuminated the dungeon in passing. Hermione could see his shadow expertly moving through the dark, barely avoiding her hexes. More stones collapsed on the floor, choking Hermione with the dust of this soon ending war.

He never fought back.

Suddenly she felt strong hands push her to the wall, knocking the wind out of her chest. He slammed her fist on the jagged edge, making her drop her wand and cry out in pain. He jabbed his wand under her chin, and she hissed as she was forced, for the first time tonight, to look into his steely-cold grey eyes.

"Draco, you... you don't have to do this," Hermione begged.

"Silence!" Draco snarled, forcing his wand deeper in her chin. Hermione was frozen. Tears and blood trickling down her eyes blurred her vision.

"It's over, Granger," Draco snarled, ignoring Hermione's trembling body which was finally giving in. "He's still out there, and once he sees you, the last of Harry Potter's best friends, he'll throw you to the Death Eaters first then have his way with you before killing you and making a spectacle out of your corpse, just like what he did with Potter, and Weasley..."

Hermione squeezed her eyes shut, shaking her head to forget those visions in vain. "Draco, please," she barely whispered. "Please let me go..."

* * *

**FLIGHT _(She ran with everything she had)_**

"Lumos," evil said, if evil could speak.

Hermione's eyes darted to the side, to the shadows. At first she thought no one was there but eyes like the slits of a snake glistened in the dark, before the light from his wand sent a soft chilly glow around the dungeon. Hermione felt Draco loosen his grip on her, barely.

"My lord, I've found the Mudblood," Draco spoke carefully, head slightly bent so as not to look at his master's eyes.

"Indeed, you have," Voldemort replied, taking his time to study Hermione from head to toe. "Bring her to me, Draco."

Draco's lips twitched as he folded Hermione's arm in her back and pushed her forward to Voldemort's unnaturally long fingers, reaching out to twist her hair.

"The spoils of war..." Voldemort began. Hermione had sometimes dreamed that should she ever face Voldemort, she would look at him in the eye and spit in his face. All she could do now was tremble and concentrate on the ground. Her body was about to shut down.

"My lord, this witch is my captive, "Draco said, suddenly taking a step in front of Hermione. "A prisoner of mine," he said more forcefully. "My family has been nothing but loyal to you, and I have done everything you asked me to. I only ask that you fulfill your end of our bargain."

Voldemort sneered amusedly. "Good form, young Malfoy. Pray, do tell, remind me what I need to grant you?"

"You leave this Mudlblood to me," Draco drawled evenly.

Before Hermione could even react, she felt a tug on her stomach as she was Side-Apparated by Draco and she landed on a familiar, cold hard floor.

_The Malfoy Manor_, she thought weakly.

Draco stood in front of her and carried her almost lifeless body in his arms. "This is your home now," she heard him say, before she succumbed to the darkness.

* * *

**FRIGHT _(Her body, insensitive to pain, went completely limp)_**

She slipped in and out of consciousness. She almost wanted death to take her; for she had sacrificed and lost so much. She remembered Healers at her bedside, House-Elves feeding her day and night. Sometimes, she would see his pale form leaning against the door, hands crossed over his chest, watching her. Sometimes she slept, sometimes, she watched the seasons change from her window.

* * *

**FIGHT _(Aggressive defense is a tactic of last resort/She kept on stabbing)_**

And then one night, she finally woke up.

The wind was howling, large drops of rain were slamming against the massive windows of the manor. Its rich, velvet curtains billowed through the halls, reaching out for her like ghosts of the past. She walked barefoot down the marble floor, the green satin nightgown caressing her feet while her brown curls blew softly against her bare arms. She followed the light seeping through half-open doors at the end of the hallway and pushed it open.

"Malfoy," she breathed.

Draco Malfoy had just arrived at the Manor, soaking wet from the storm when he walked straight to his study and poured himself a liberal amount of Firewhiskey. He threw his cloak on his seat and drank by the window, his silver blond hair still dripping from the rain. He stiffened but did not turn around when he finally heard her voice.

"I see you're finally out of bed."

"Release me, Malfoy," Hermione replied, not missing a beat. Lightning crashed, and she saw a glimpse of Draco, who looked like he aged significantly since the war. He looked taller, had broader shoulders and his hair was down to the collar of his black shirt.

"You have nowhere to go, Hermione" Draco said, slowly turning around to face the witch.

Hermione flinched at the mention of her given name. "You can't keep me here forever!" she answered back, hand gripping an invisible wand out of habit.

"I've already kept you for a year, Hermione, don't you remember?" Draco sneered, gulping another shot of Firewhiskey. "Fatigue, depression, whatever it was, the Healers said you fell into a passive traumatic coma, due to the effects of the war. I fed you, took care of you. I've worked too hard to get you where I want you, don't think you can get away from me that easily-" he heard a loud SMACK! and his head turned sharply to the side.

He hissed in pain but did nothing. Before he could turn around she slapped him again on the other cheek, and threw his glass at the other side of the room. It shattered against the wall.

"You bastard!" she cried, failing to form a single trail of thought in her mind. It was too much for her to bear. "How cruel can you get to manipulate one's life? Everyone who was ever dear to me is now dead, you're telling me I missed one whole year of my life? How could you!" She slapped him again, the rain from his hair splashing across the space between.

"I have all my memories in the Pensieve downstairs, to help you remember," Draco began. Hermione raised her palm again but he caught it in time. "I SAVED YOU, YOU UNGRATEFUL WITCH!"

"You should've left me for dead!" she screamed, trying to escape from Draco's grip.

"I couldn't!" He shook her shoulders. "I had to protect you!"

Hermione froze as she remembered that fateful night down at the dungeons of Hogwarts, how Draco reminded Voldemort to keep his end of the bargain.

Draco looked down at Hermione through his wet blond fringes. As if reading her mind, he forcefully grabbed her hands and put them against his chest. "He needed my help, his power was beginning to wane. I helped him achieve his victory, as long as he would keep you from harm."

"All my friends.. gone..." she whispered.

"And you are alive," he hissed, grabbing her face. "So live."

Hermione looked up at the familiar stranger. "Why, Malfoy, why do you want me here? Why did you let me live?"

"You'll understand everything, in time." Draco growled, before crushing his wet lips into hers.

Primal, frantic, Hermione let Draco ravage her lips and tongue before she pushed him away. Draco's eyes darkened.

"After everything I've done for you, if you still fear me, Hermione, it's so much easier to pretend to love me," said Draco before taking his lips into hers once again.

A basic instinct for humans is to feel the need of contact, comfort when going through so much pain. Hermione slowly found her defenses crumbling down once more. Draco's wet clothes began to seep through her bare skin, her thin nightgown as he held her closer, possessively, obsessively. Their kiss deepened as lightning crashed again.

Tomorrow, it would all make sense tomorrow, after the storm.

-end-

* * *

Chapter End Notes:

1. "You are alive, so live." is from The Sandman Series by Neil Gaiman

2. The Four Stages of Fear is not quite popular, but it exists. Look it up.

3. Thanks for reading!


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